


Believing is Not the Same as Seeing

by charlesdarwininthetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom, Supernatural, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Aliens, Deductions, Gen, Herbology, High School AU, Night Vale High School, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Science vs. Magic, Slitheen, Superwholock, character interactions, crossover AU, monster hunting, summer school AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdarwininthetardis/pseuds/charlesdarwininthetardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock glanced around the room at the others and then looked the Doctor directly in the eyes as he spoke. “So, yes, Doctor, we believe you. There is a dangerous alien in this school that must be apprehended. Tell us what we need to do, because you could not have had a better group to help you.”</p><p>Or, the misadventures that happen when the main characters from five different fandoms attend summer school together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Ron Weasley

**Author's Note:**

> Originally called "Believing is Not Necessarily the Same as Seeing"

All Ron Weasley had wanted to do was go to the bathroom.

Granted, this place was slightly less complicated to get around than Hogwarts, but it’s not like he’d been attending Night Vale High School for the past six years. This place was more of a maze than Hogwarts ever was.

And although it took him almost 20 minutes to find the bathroom, finally, he did, mercifully, find it.

Which thus began his next challenge: Finding his way back to the classroom.

He wandered around in the confusing maze of hallways until he saw a flickering blue light. Partially because he was intrigued and partially because the light broke up the monotony of the white walls a bit, he followed the light until only a corner in the hallway was between him and it.

If nothing else, his adventures with his friends had taught him that sometimes it wasn’t always advisable to go barging into confrontations. He slowly peered around the corner to see the source of the light, and then, gasping, reeled his head back due to the shock of what he’d seen. There was no way he had seen that correctly. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and stuck his head around the corner once more to peer at the strange sight before him.

Again, he saw the creature standing before him. Ron wasn’t sure _what_ it was, but it wasn’t human. It was huge, around 8 feet tall, and a disgusting shade of green. It was completely naked, except for this machine-like thing around its neck. Its back was facing him, and he could see it fumbling with something. He couldn’t see where exactly the blue flashing light was coming from, but it was obvious that this was its source.

He gasped. He had never seen anything like it, and he had faced goblins, unicorns, and even Voldemort.

The thing heard him and turned around, peering down at him. Ron took a step back, inadvertently revealing his entire body to the beast. He was frozen with fear.

“And who are you?” It asked, in a voice that sounded like it came from underwater. “You seem… afraid. I can smell your fear, all sweat and hormones and adrenaline.” The thing laughed, releasing Ron from his trance.

He reached for his wand in his robe and grabbed it. “St-stup-STUPIFY!” He yelled, unleashing a stunning curse on the beast that would at least slow it down and give him time to run away.

The green monster roared as the curse hit it, stunning it. Ron turned and hightailed it back to the classroom, his robe billowing behind him.

He didn’t look back.


	2. Cecil Palmer

Cecil Palmer turned on the “ON AIR” sign and sat down in the chair in Night Vale High School’s radio booth.

_“We are alone in the universe. Alone, except for maybe that monster behind your shoulder._

_“Welcome to Night Vale High School.”_

He cued the school’s fight song that played at the beginning of each news broadcast, and it played over the loudspeakers into the empty classrooms of the school.

 _“Good morning, Night Vale High School. Or at least, good morning to whatever small percentage of the population is present today on this hot,_ hot _July day._

 _“Today is the first day of summer school here at Night Vale High, which is always exciting, as this is the first time Night Vale has hosted summer school since the City Council made the executive decision to rotate summer school responsibilities between different schools in an effort to save on budget costs for ourselves and other communities. Why, last year, summer school was held at Lawrence High School, and the year before that, at a school called Hogwarts? You know, listeners, I’ve never even heard of_ that _school before…_

_“But if you are hearing this, listeners, then you’re here and you already know this. However, I can guess that you are wondering why I, of all people, am also here._

_“Well, listeners. Summer school is not the dreaded mark of stupidity that it once was. Sure, plenty of underachievers attend summer school for a chance to remedy their grades from the previous year before they are sacrificed to the glow cloud – ALL HAIL THE GLOW CLOUD. ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY GLOW CLOUD – but there are also plenty of intelligent students who attend summer school to get extra credits either to make room in their schedule or just because they more experience._

_“I myself am here to get my credit for my Advanced Radio Hosting class, which is only held at the end of the day. I need to take the class so I can eventually attain the position of the Voice of Night Vale, and my current job, at the radio station itself, begins before the school day ends, and well, you know how Station Management gets when they’re angry. This is just the easiest way to get the credit and be on time for my job._

_Also, it doesn’t hurt that my boyfriend, Carlos - perfect, beautiful Carlos-”_

“Cecil? What are you doing?”

Cecil turned around in his chair to see Carlos leaning against the door to his radio booth. Cecil’s breath caught at the sight of his boyfriend’s perfect black hair curling against his caramel colored cheeks. Cecil grinned and turned back to the microphone.

_“Listeners? It seems… something has come up. Let’s go to a word from our sponsor.”_

He queued up a pre-recorded Taco Bell ad to play and opened the door.

“Hey, Carlos. What’s up?” God, Carlos looked so cute with his lab coat, and his red plaid shirt, and his, wait, was that a frown?

“Cecil, what are you doing here?” He was more terse than usual. Something was definitely wrong. But Cecil didn’t understand why.

Cecil looked confusedly at Carlos. “Uh, My work…? I’m here to get credit for my radio class. So, I’m doing radio.”

Carlos shook his head. “That’s not how it works, Cecil. You need to come back to the classroom with everyone else. The teacher was wondering where you were.”

Cecil looked at Carlos for a moment, and nodded. If this would make Carlos happy, if this would make him stop looking at him like he was disappointed, then yes, Cecil would go with Carlos back to the classroom and suffer through summer school with all of the other students.

“Alright, but let me at least sign off first,” Cecil said, going back to his microphone.

Carlos sighed and put his hand on Cecil’s shoulder, causing him to look at Carlos. “Cecil, other than our class, no one is here. No one is listening. Just shut it off.”

Cecil sighed. Carlos was right. He shut closed up the booth and walked back to the classroom.

They walked in silence, Cecil replaying their conversation because something about it had seemed off. “Wait,” He said, finally realizing what it was. “’The teacher,’ you said? You didn’t know who it was?  Cause I thought Mr. Wallaby said he was going to supervise us before summer began.”

Carlos shook his head. “No, it’s a new guy I’ve never seen before. I definitely would have remembered him if I had met him before; it’s not like you meet that many people around here with an English accent.”

Cecil frowned. “That’s weird. It’s unlike Mr. Wallaby to go back on a promise like that.”

“You’re telling me.”

They were still talking when they walked in during roll call.

The teacher, a tall man with sticky-uppy brown hair and striking eyes, was at the front of the room, peering at the list through his black glasses.

“Ronald Weasley? Is that right?”

“It’s Ron,” a young man with bright red hair waved his hand in a half-hearted effort of raising his hand.

“All right, Ron, what class are you here for? This list doesn’t say, which is rather unhelpful, if you ask me.”

“Um, all my seventh-year classes, Professor. You see, Harry and Hermione here,” he pointed at the boy and girl sitting next to him, “and I are taking our seventh-year off to hunt for Horcruxes and destroy You-Know-Who. So, Defense Against the dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, you know.”

The teacher was staring at Ron as if he had heard of him, but never expected to meet him. “Ron, what school did you say you went to?”

“Hogwarts, sir.”

The teacher paused a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Right. Well, good luck, then, Ron.” He held up the list again. “Let’s see, who’s next on this list? Dean Winchester?”

Silence, and then a quiet, “He’s not here, sir,” was heard in the front row.

The teacher made a note on his roster and then peered down at a young man who wore a plaid shirt and bore a slight resemblance to a moose. “Ah, well then, in that case. And who are you, may I ask?”

“Sam Winchester, sir. Dean’s brother. Something came up, and he couldn’t be here today.”

The teacher moved to the front of his desk and leaned back on it, folding his arms. “’Something came up?’ Is that code for ‘skipping’?”

Sam shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Then what, may I ask, came up?”

“You know, saving people. Hunting things. The family business.” Sam answered vaguely.

The teacher raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. He noticed Carlos and Cecil sitting down.

“You, with the white-blond hair and the purple eyes.” He pointed at Cecil. “What is your name? Are you on this list?”

Cecil looked at the teacher. “I’m Cecil Palmer. I’m taking last period off next year so I can get to my job on time, so I’m getting the credit now.”

The teacher nodded, put his roster down on the desk behind him, and stood up. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, I may as well introduce myself. Mr. Wallaby was going to be teaching summer school this year, but something _came up_ ,” he shot a pointed glance at Sam and the addressed the whole class, “so I’m his replacement. I’m the Doctor, by the way.”

A girl with frizzy hair raised her hand. Cecil was pretty sure Ron had introduced her as Hermione. “Doctor who?” she asked in her posh British accent.

The teacher sighed. “Just the Doctor.”

The Doctor leaned forward on his desk.

“And this is going to be the most interesting day of your life.”


	3. Sam Winchester

Summer school was boring. Everyone here was annoying, and Sam Winchester wasn’t getting anything done.

Sure, he knew why he was there. He and Dean had missed so much school due to hunting that the only way to possibly get any actual credit was to attend summer school. And even though school credit and going to college meant a lot more to Sam than it did to Dean, it still annoyed him that Sam was stuck in this classroom in this weird desert town while Dean was skipping out to go hunt more monsters. He would have been here too, but no. He had to go and get all suspicious about a couple of deaths in town, claiming that something supernatural had happened to them. So Sam went to school, and Dean was trying to solve his mystery.

Maybe summer school would have even been okay, if everyone here weren’t so _annoying_.

Their teacher, the Doctor or whatever he called himself, had left to go “investigate something,” whatever that meant. Sam was pretty sure that just meant the Doctor honestly didn’t care about the kids’ education and was putting just his time in by hanging out in the teachers’ lounge.

Thus leaving the students here to do whatever they pleased.

Behind him, he heard those three kids from Hogwarts talking loudly. “Really, guys, you should be _working_. The better you do now, the easier it will be to get jobs as Aurors later,” the girl was saying.

“We don’t need to focus, Hermione. After we’ve defeated You-Know-Who, the Ministry won’t give a hoot about our credentials. They’ll be begging us to work for them, right, Harry?” Ron elbowed the bespectacled boy with the weird lightning-shaped scar on his forehead sitting next to him.

“Hermione, you really could stand to relax a bit.” Harry agreed.

“But Harry! What if we need to know this stuff to defeat You-Know-Who? That’s why they teach us this. It will come in handy later. It’s bound to.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a little snort at that statement. To his dismay, the three behind him paused in his conversation to look at him. He didn’t acknowledge them, so they went back to his conversation, something about You-Know-Who and Ministries of Magic or whatever.

He glanced over at the two boys who walked in during roll call. The Hispanic one was sitting a seat down from the other one, hunched over and scribbling madly in a lab notebook. His friend - Cecil, was it? – was writing a lot more slowly. Even from a couple of feet away, Sam could tell that he was just mindlessly doodling with, was that a red crayon?

He was distracted from Cecil’s strange taste in writing utensils by the banging sound that came from the very back of the classroom. Sam turned around despite himself to see what was going on.

“I’m so _bored_ , John!” A pale boy with curly brown-black hair was telling his blond friend, who was for some reason wearing a sweater in a desert in July. “Everyone here is so… augh.”

“Maybe so, Sherlock, but that doesn’t mean you can just go and bang your head against the table,” his friend told him calmly. “You signed up to take this class, so you have to deal with the people here.”

Sherlock looked exasperatedly at John. “Uhnnn,” and dropped his head to the table, not bothering to raise it again.

Sam turned around, hoping that maybe now he could finally get something done on his research.

He made little progress before Ron and Harry started arguing about some herbology homework.

“I’m telling you, Ron, it’s  the purple-spotted petunia.”

“No, Harry. I’m pretty sure it’s a mandrake.”

“I don’t know what you’re looking at. That’s definitely a petunia.”

“Okay, Harry. You know what? We’ll ask Hermione. Hermione, what plant it is this?”

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. “God, Ron, I’m busy. Can’t you figure it out for yourselves?”

Ron groaned. “No, we can’t, Hermione. Is this a purple-spotted petunia or a mandrake?”

Sam had, by this point, turned around in despite of himself. He kind of wanted to see who would win this argument.

Hermione looked up from her work – what was that she was writing on? A scroll? And was she using a quill? – and gestured over to Carlos with her chin. “You know what, Ron? Ask him. He looks smart. Science-y. He can probably answer your question.” She went back to her work.

Ron looked confused. He mouthed ‘science-y?’ and looked at Harry.

“It’s the Muggle version of herbology. He’ll know what you’re talking about.” Hermione said without looking up.

Harry and Ron looked at each other a moment. Harry shrugged, saying, _it was your idea to ask her. You ask him._

“What, no! It was my idea to ask Hermione; I don’t even know this guy!” Ron whispered loudly.

The two boys stared each other a moment, and then finally Harry shook his head. “Fine,” he muttered, and took his textbook over to Carlos. “Hey, Carlos, I have a question about… science?”

Carlos looked up, annoyed, from his lab report and pulled out his earbuds. “Sure, what’s up?” He looked down at the textbook Harry was holding; Sam could just barely make out the diagrams of plants drawn there.

“Harry, I’ll do my best to answer your questions, but do know that I don’t specialize in botany or dendrology,” Carlos said calmly. Harry nodded and then they leaned their heads together and discussed the textbook. Harry thanked Carlos and then sat down.

That seemed to be the end of that, but then a couple of minutes later, Ron got up to ask Carlos another question. “Hey Carlos, what do you think about number 37?”

Carlos clenched his teeth and worked his jaw for a moment in an effort to stay calm. Then he lost it. “Dang it, Ron! I’m a SCIENTIST! I study SCIENCE, not PLANTS or NATURE!” he screamed, standing up.

Realizing he had slipped, Carlos looked around. Everyone was staring at him, even Sherlock. “Sorry, Ron. I can’t answer your question.” He sat down and continued to work on his lab report.

“I, um. Sorry to bother you, Carlos. I’ll just, um, go sit down over here, then.” Ron scooted away from Carlos as fast as he could.

Sam noticed Cecil looking concernedly at Carlos before his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. Dean. He answered the phone.

“Dean, what is it? What’s going on?” He whispered, keeping watch  on the door in case the Doctor came back.

“ _Hey Sam, You know that thing I’m hunting? I don’t think it’s necessarily supernatural, but it’s definitely not human, and definitely dangerous.”_

“Wait, There’s actually something here? And what do you mean, ‘it’s not supernatural?’ What is it then?”

“ _I’m not sure, but guns should still be able to kill it. I think I know where it is, so I’m going after it. Shouldn’t take very long.”_

“What? Dean, you were only supposed to track it, not go kill it. You need to wait for me. I get done with summer school in a couple of hours. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“ _No, it’s fine, Sammy. I got it covered. Besides, I gotta go after it quick before it hurts anyone else. It’s in a populated building._ ”

“What? Where?”

Sam heard Dean take a deep breath over the phone. “ _Night Vale High School_.”


	4. Carlos the Science Student

“What? It’s here?” Carlos the Science Student overheard Sam say to the phone. The half of the conversation he could hear seemed really strange, what with its talk of killing supernatural creatures. Carlos shook his head and went back to his work, but what he had overheard still bothered him. Didn’t Sam know that there was no such thing as supernatural forces? Everything could be explained with science. _Everything._

Maybe if Carlos kept telling himself that, it would be true.

He had lived in Night Vale for a couple months now, and nothing made any sense here. Not the earthquakes that no one could feel, not the giant glow cloud that was head of the school board, and certainly not the pterodactyls that showed up at last fall’s PTA meeting.

But, at least Night Vale was merely scientifically inconclusive. Nothing at all like that “magic” stuff Ron and Harry had been asking him about. Purple-spotted petunias? Mandrakes with healing powers? What was that even about?

Still, even though it was weird, it didn’t merit Carlos freaking out at them like he did. He sighed and over to them to apologize.

“Hey, Ron, Harry,” he said, capturing their attention, “I’m sorry I freaked out on you guys earlier. I just… I don’t understand herbology and I’ve never heard of these plants before. And, I mean, a scientist is supposed to know a lot of thing. So, it kind of freaked me out. I’m sorry.”

Ron and Harry stared at Carlos, and then looked at each other as if to make sure that the other saw him. Then Ron said cautiously, as if to keep Carlos from going off the edge again, “It’s okay, Carlos. We forgot you were a Muggle.”

Carlos began to nod, and then paused. “Wait, what’s a Muggle?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that-”

Before Carlos could question Ron further, he felt someone pulling on his arm. He turned around to find Cecil standing next to him. “Carlos, I wanted to ask you something.” Cecil looked at Ron and Harry, who were staring at him. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

The whole apology thing was actually really awkward, so Carlos was glad that Cecil interrupted him.

“No, no, it’s okay, Cecil,” Carlos told his boyfriend and went to go sit down again, but he couldn’t help but catch the grateful glance that Ron shot Cecil.

Carlos glanced at Cecil’s paper as he sat down and smiled fondly. Whereas Carlos’s lab notebook was covered in scribbled notes and calculations, Cecil’s paper was completely empty save for the swirls and professions of love to Carlos that were doodled on it in red crayon.

“Cecil, what did you want to ask me?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me Friday night. A new ice cream parlor just opened up at the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me to check it out?” Cecil looked at Carlos, but he was just staring at him, confused. Cecil began to babble. “I mean, I have to go anyway. Station Management wanted me to write a review for the radio station, but I figured it would be a lot more fun if I went with you-”

“Cecil,” Carlos interrupted. “They actually opened that place?”

“The White Sand Ice Cream Shop? Yeah, the owners opened a new branch at the Waterfront in hopes of getting more business…” Cecil trailed off because Carlos’s face didn’t look any less confused.

“No, the Waterfront. How did they open it? We’re in the middle of a desert, for crying out loud! Where did they get the water to make the Harbor and Waterfront?” Yet another thing that made absolutely no sense in Night Vale.

“Oh, Carlos,” Cecil flapped his hand at Carlos in a dismissive gesture. “That’s just its name: There isn’t actually any water there. It just kind of serves as a city center where you can go shopping and hang out with a boardwalk-style atmosphere. I mean, there _is_ a harbor there, but it’s just kind of filled with sand. It’s a nice place, though. Very popular on weekends.”

“Oh.” Carlos had nothing to say to that. Well, nothing to say except, “Okay. Yeah, going out for ice cream sounds great, Cecil. It’s a date.”

Cecil’s mouth opened in shock for a moment before he caught himself and seemed to remember that, oh yeah, Carlos was his boyfriend.

Fortunately, Carlos didn’t have time to notice Cecil’s shock because that was then moment when the Doctor walked back into the room.

“Class, I have bad news. I think I might need your help,” he said.

That was it. No talk of, “Does anyone have any questions about their work?” or “Well, everyone seems to be talking, so I’m assuming you have any work done.” Just, “I think I might need your help.” Just further proof that this guy wasn’t exactly a normal teacher, even by Night Vale standards.

John Watson, who hadn’t really said much all day, spoke up. “What do you mean, you need our help? Whose help do you need?”

The Doctor sighed. “There is a monster at this school that is very dangerous. An alien. I thought I could apprehend it alone, but apparently not. I was unsuccessful in that I can’t even find it, and-” The Doctor looked at the class, every member of which was staring at him. “You guys don’t believe me, do you?”

In the silence that followed, Carlos thought that after spending so much time in Night Vale, there was nothing he really couldn’t believe, not now. After mind-controlling glow clouds and floating cats, aliens weren’t so hard to believe. But he wasn’t necessarily ready to admit that. He was a scientist. He had to maintain _some_ standards, after all.

“I believe you, and everyone else in this room believes you, as well.”

Every head in the room turned to stare at Sherlock Holmes, who had uttered the telling phrase.

Sherlock shrugged. “Well, why wouldn’t we believe you when we have living proof that aliens exist? Doctor, you’re obviously not originally a teacher. ‘I’m the Doctor’? Please. Every teacher is called by their last name, not just their title. That was strange. And there is a double pulse in your neck, a telltale sign of a double heartbeat. You’re not exactly human yourself, are you, Doctor?”

Everyone looked at the Doctor, who put his hand behind his neck and looked to the side, while murmuring, “Weeell…”

“Exactly as I thought. Other than the double heartbeat, you physiologically look exactly like any other human, so you must be a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey.”

The Doctor gaped at Sherlock even as he pointed at Sam. “He didn’t even blink when you mentioned a monster at this school. Evidently, he was not surprised by this revelation. Furthermore, you can tell by the lump in his backpack that he is carrying a gun, most likely a pistol as that is the only gun that can fit in a bag that size. Finally, judging both from his end of the conversation I overheard on the phone earlier and the heavy residue of salt on his bag, he is familiar with supernatural forces, so he is a Hunter. More specifically, a Hunter of supernatural monsters.”

Sam blinked. “H-how..?” he sputtered, but Sherlock had already moved on to the trio from Hogwarts.

“It wasn’t even a challenge to figure out who they are. Even if they didn’t talk treat those sticks on their desks like they were made of gold, their talk of ‘potions’ and ‘transfiguration’ immediately revealed themselves to me as wizards. Besides, Hogwarts’s full name is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so those three are definitely used to encountering creatures unimaginable to the rest of us.”

Sherlock turned to appraise Carlos, who was staring rather slack-jawed at Sherlock’s deductive prowess, and Cecil, who merely had one eyebrow raised as he gazed at Sherlock, as if challenging him. “Now, we come to you two. You were a little more interesting to figure out, but it was not difficult when I remembered that this is your home school; thus, this strange, strange city is your home. I observed enough on the way here this morning to learn that Night Vale is not your typical town. In a city filled with buzzing shadow figures and days when gravity stops working, aliens would not be out of the ordinary.

“Cecil is obviously a native; you can tell that he is more used to the strange customs of Night vale by his eccentric taste of dress, which matches with the rest of the townspeople. Also, he has a third eye, something that could only be normal in Night Vale. Evidently, talk of an alien would just register as another day in Night Vale and must be dealt with accordingly.

“Carlos is a little trickier, as you seem a little more normal, like John here.” John stared at Sherlock, insulted, but Sherlock waved him off and continued talking. “I mean, you dress relatively normally and write in a lab notebook as if science makes sense, even though even I can tell that it does not and there is no use in even trying.  Evidently, you are still relatively new here. But considering you take most announcements regarding town in stride, such as the news of a waterless Waterfront Harbor and – congratulations on the date, by the way - you have been here long enough to come to quickly accept strange news and go with the flow.”

“This just leaves John and me, who have never dealt with anything even remotely unexplainable by modern science, which does state that aliens do not exist. However,” he nodded at the Doctor, “modern science is a process, not an ideology, and the evidence that proves that is standing right in front of us. So _I_ believe you, Doctor. John might need a little more convincing, but he can typically handle anything you throw his way. He’s very resilient that way. We may have never fought against aliens before, but we _have_ defeated psychotic consulting criminals and Chinese smuggling rings. This is merely the next step up.

Sherlock glanced around the room at the others and looked the Doctor directly in the eyes as he spoke. “So, yes, Doctor, we believe you. There is a dangerous alien in this school that must be apprehended. Tell us what we need to do, because you could not have had a better group to help you.” Sherlock finished his speech and leaned back in his chair, evidently pleased with himself.

Everyone, including the Doctor, was staring at him. Harry even leaned over to John and whispered to him, “Is he always like this?”

John nodded slowly, all while staring at Sherlock as if he hadn’t ever seen a more beautiful sight.

Eventually, Sherlock got tired of all the staring, and looked at the rest of the room. “What?” he asked, confused.

The Doctor clapped his hands. “… Alright then! So, if you guys could help me, that would be great. I’ve gotten news of a couple of incidents here, and I’m here today so I can investigate. I’m not quite sure what exactly we’re facing, so if anyone has any ideas for how to go about this… Personally, I typically just jump right in to try to figure this thing out, but maybe you guys have a better idea?”

Sam spoke up. “My brother is hunting this thing, too, I think. He chased the thing to here, I know that much. I’m not quite sure what it is, and from what he’s told me, he’s not sure either: This is way different from anything we usually hunt. But he says that it can probably be killed with guns.”

“No! We are not using guns!” The Doctor shook his head violently. “Are there any other, _better_ ideas?”

“We can’t do anything in a group this large,” Hermione pointed out. “We should split up and look for clues. Or, if not clues, we can cover more ground if there’s more than one group. Maybe someone could keep an eye on this thing, and another can work on trying to find a way to defeat this thing?”

Ron stared at her. “Why do we have to find a way to kill this thing? We can just use the Killing Curse-”

Hermione shook her head violently. “No! Ron, I am not letting you use one of the Unforgivable Curses on this thing. You use that, and you can get sent to Azkaban. No. I am not letting that happen. There are other ways. There have to be.” She shook her head once more, and that was the final say on the matter.

Carlos spoke up. “Splitting up could work. I can get into to the science lab, and I could probably mix up a sedative once we figure out what exactly we’re dealing with. But what with a murderous alien on the loose, I think I’d like someone to go with me though, preferably someone who has a history with chemistry…”

Hermione nodded at him. “I’m decent in my potions class. I’ll come with you.”

Cecil had been watching most of this exchange quietly, but now he leaned forward. “I have access to the security cameras and stuff here on campus; the locks use the same key as the radio booth. Some of us can go in there and see if we can find video recordings of this thing, or at the very least, keep a lookout for it when it shows up again.”

“And the final group can come with me. We can corner this thing, and maybe get rid of it, once we know what we’re dealing with.” The Doctor looked at the class. “This job will be the most dangerous, as it calls for direct contact with the alien. So, I’ll be in charge of it.”

Sam waved his hand, “I’m coming with you.”

Sherlock and John looked at each other. “Us too.”

The Doctor nodded. “Okay, I just hope you guys know what you’re getting into. But that works.”

Cecil looked at Ron and Harry and said, “So I guess that leaves you two with me.” He turned and scanned the rest of the room. “We can keep in contact with each other through cell phones, as the alien will definitely hear the loudspeaker if I try to use it.”

Apart from Ron not knowing what a cellphone was, everyone assented their agreement. They all exchanged numbers, with the exception of Harry and Hermione, who had no use for cell phones in the wizarding realm.

They were all ready to split into their prospective groups when the Doctor turned around and appraised his team. “All right,” he said. “It’s go time. Allons-y!”


	5. Harry Potter

Cecil wasn’t lying when he said he had access to the school’s security cameras. To Harry Potter at least, it seemed that Cecil’s keys could grant access to pretty much anywhere in the whole school, if he wanted.

“So,” Ron began to ask Cecil as he led them through the third door marked DANGEROUS:  FACULTY ONLY, “could you use those keys to get into the teachers’ lounge?”

Cecil turned and looked at Ron, a worried look in his striking purple eyes. “I don’t know. I have no interest in getting into the teachers’ lounge. Some of them are scary enough around the students; I don’t want to see them in private.” He looked back at Ron. “And the teachers’ lounge has a large enough fatality rate of students being dragged in there to discourage me from entering voluntarily."

Harry stopped, thinking there was something weird in his answer. Slowly, he asked, “Wait, so then how do you know you can get into the security cameras? Do you have an interest in getting in there?”

“Well, it’s common knowledge that all of that stuff, the radio booth, the regular loudspeaker, and the security cameras are kept behind the same lock. This stuff isn’t _that_ dangerous; the school just wants to keep it in the hands of responsible students. Otherwise they would constantly have irresponsible fools hijacking the airwaves for their own purposes: personal use, pranks, etcetera,” Cecil saw Harry shoot a pointed glance at the DANGEROUS: FACULTY ONLY signs they were passing. “Well, it’s not as dangerous as the teachers’ lounge or anything. Besides, part of radio hosting involves observing everything so you can accurately report on the newsworthy stuff later, so they often put us in charge of watching the security cameras. In reality, we’re the only ones who really use it.”

Ron nodded, and Harry just said thoughtfully, “Well, that makes sense, I guess.”

Cecil laughed. “It makes sense to me. So there’s that, at least.” He pulled open a final door and gestured into a small room filled with screens. “We’re here.”

There was a bank of TV screens along the entirety of one wall. Harry stared at the screens, certain that the entire school could be observed from here. Then again, he figured, that was kind of the point. Three comfortable-looking black chairs sat below it, obviously meant for the people who were in charge of monitoring security.

Harry and Cecil sat down in the chairs and looked up at the screens, searching for anything out of the ordinary.

Ron remained standing, inspecting the TVs closely and muttering, “What charm do you use to get these to work? Wait,” he glanced back at Cecil, who certainly didn’t look like a wizard, but didn’t look like a Muggle either. “This is Muggle technology, isn’t it? But the pictures are moving… How? My dad would love this.”

Cecil shot a confused glance at Harry, who chuckled, saying, “He’s not used to TVs or any Muggle stuff like that. Technology’s very different in the wizarding world.”

He spoke louder, so Ron to hear. “They’re called TVs, Ron. They’re hooked up to the security cameras around school, which relay what they see to these TVs…” At Ron’s confused look, he sighed. “It’s too complicated to explain, Ron. Just sit down and study the screens.”

Cecil furrowed his brow, “Muggle… you used that term before, when you were talking to Carlos. Is that an insult? What does it mean?”

“Nothing!” Ron said quickly.

But Harry shook his head. “Ron, Sherlock already outed us to the entire class.” He explained to Cecil, “It’s not an insult. It just means you don’t have any magical ability. You’re not a wizard.” He paused, studying Cecil’s third eye before saying softly, “Although I don’t believe you’re a Muggle either. You’re something else. Something I’ve never seen before.”

He shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs from his brain. “But you use Muggle technology, and you’ve never heard of wizards. And your friend Carlos there, the science student? Even though he wasn’t necessarily thrown for a complete loop when Sherlock revealed us as wizards, he’s still a Muggle.”

Cecil nodded. “Yes, he’s not from around here. He keeps telling me that outside of Night Vale, everyone and everything is completely normal. Which is weird. How is it possible that you don’t have five-headed dragons or a Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your homes? It’s not natural.”

Harry stared at him and eventually just shook his head. “Man, Night Vale is weird…”

While Harry and Cecil had been talking, Ron had been studying the screens. He interrupted them now, saying, “Hey, guys! I see something!”

The other two boys looked at the screen and saw a blue flashing light in one of the screens.

“What is that?” Cecil asked. “I have never seen anything like that before. Do you think it could be our alien?”

He stood up and peered at the screen, muttering, “Huh, that’s Mr. Breadfish. You know, I never liked him. It figures that if there’s an alien here, it would have something to do with him.”

Ron was studying the screen. “That light looks so familiar...”

The three boys stared at the screen and watched as Mr. Breadfish, with his back to the camera, reached towards his forehead and made something resembling an unzipping motion. They watched, barely breathing, as a skin suit bearing Mr. Breadfish’s face fell to the ground, leaving only a giant green monster standing in its place.

The flashing blue light continued as the monster turned around to face the security camera. Its huge black eyes stared at the boys, almost as if it knew they were watching. Its eyes blinked vertically twice, before it turned away and walked out of the room.

Ron was the first to let out his breath. He pointed at the screen. “That thing! That light! I knew I had seen it before!”

Cecil stared at him. “What do you mean?”

Ron was almost jumping up and down from excitement. “I ran into that thing this morning when I was trying to find the bathroom!”

“Ron, are you mad? You ran into this thing this morning? How did you get away?” Harry had his arms around Ron’s shoulders as if he were trying to shake some sense into him. Not that it would have worked.

Ron merely shrugged. “Stunning spell. You know. Nothing to it.”

Cecil had turned away from the screen and had been watching them, but now he said, “If you ran into that this morning, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Ron blushed. “Um, well…”

Harry jumped in to defend his friend. “You see, Cecil, where we go to school, there are plenty of strange creatures roaming campus. Mermaids and a giant squid live in the lake on the grounds , our gameskeeper had a pet three-headed dog _and_ a pet dragon (before he had to give it away), and once there was even a troll in the dungeon-”

“So, seeing something like this on the way to the bathroom really wasn’t out of the ordinary for me. It wasn’t any cause for alarm.” Ron interrupted.

Cecil nodded understandingly. “I see. Well, this isn’t really common at Night Vale High, I can tell you that. The weirdest creatures we typically get are the hooded figures that gather in the local dog park.”

But then he glanced at the screen and looked for a moment at the skin suit depicting Mr. Breadfish’s face laying on the floor. He shuddered and held up his cell phone.

“But it seems that we now have to call a doctor.”


	6. The Doctor

The Doctor appraised his team after the other two groups left for their respective missions.

They had a young supernatural Hunter, two British thrill seekers, and a Time Lord.

Well, he could do worse.

“Alright, guys,” he said, looking each of them in the eyes, starting with Sherlock and moving to Sherlock. “I have no idea what we’re facing, but I do know that there is something here plaguing this school. There have already been a couple of casualties, and it’s up to us to make sure there aren’t any more.”

He ended by looking at Sam. “Saving people, hunting things, right?”

Sam looked slightly uncomfortable, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Right, so let’s go exploring!” The Doctor flashed all of them a manic grin and began running out of the classroom.

“Wait!” The Doctor turned around to find John Watson facing him. “We’re just going to go out looking for this thing?”

“Yeah, we aren’t going to do any research or anything?” That was Sam, looking a little fearful.

The Doctor shrugged. “I tried to do some earlier, but I couldn’t find anything telling. The only way we’re going to find any information is to just get out there and go looking for it!” Everyone stared at him. “Well, come on then!”

The Doctor made it about five feet down the hall before he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. He sighed inwardly. There was nothing he hated more than a gun. “Okay, who’s got the gun?”

He saw Sam holding a flashlight in one hand and a pistol in the other. “What are you doing with that?” he asked, trying very hard to remain calm.

“You can’t honestly expect me to go out there without any protection,” Sam protested, but the Doctor shook his head.

“No, you are not going to use a gun under my watch.” Sam stared at the Doctor. “I don’t suppose you feel more comfortable, waving a gun around.” Sam nodded meekly. “Well, I don’t _feel_ comfortable with you waving it all around. If you’re pointing a gun at something, well, then you’re obviously its enemy. I won’t be held responsible for what happens when this thing attacks you for pointing a gun at it.”

Sam blinked. “But, we are its enemy.”

“Well, we don’t want _it_ to know that.”

Sam nodded. “Fair enough, but you can’t honestly expect me to go into the battle zone empty handed.”

The Doctor looked sternly at Sam. “I can and you will. We’re going to give it a chance. We’re going to reason with it, not fight it.”

Sherlock had been watching this entire exchange from behind templed fingers as if it were a tennis match. He finally interrupted coolly.

“If we are only planning on reasoning with it, then why are Carlos and Hermione off concocting a sedative in the science lab?”

“To knock it out?” John guessed.

Sherlock pointed at John while continuing to address the Doctor. “Yes, to knock it out. But why? As insurance. Just in case something doesn’t work out. But you aren’t ever planning on killing this thing, Doctor. You want to sedate it so you can take care of it your own way.”

The Doctor exhaled and looked up at the heavens. “Finally, somebody who gets it,” he breathed. He looked at the three students. “Yes. I’ll give it a chance. If it won’t leave of its own accord, then I’ll take care of it myself. But I won’t kill it. That’s only a last resort.” He stared pointedly at the gun in Sam’s hands. “But if it sees a gun, then it will think that our only purpose is to kill it. It will go immediately on the defense and then it will be much harder to reason with.”

Sam continued to grip the gun, challenging the Doctor with his eyes. “Why are we planning on reasoning with it if it’s already killed people?”

“Because, Sam, we should always give it a chance to redeem itself.” The Doctor looked into Sam’s eyes in hope that maybe now Sam would finally understand and put away the gun.

Mercifully, he did.

“Let’s go,” The Doctor said. “We can split up to canvas this place better. If anyone sees anything out of the ordinary, call me.” He waved his mobile. “I’ll keep an eye on Sam. John, you go with Sherlock.”

Maybe going with Sam was a bad idea because he was just going to get on the Doctor’s nerves, but it was a far better idea to keep an eye on him than to let him go on his own. It seemed like he and Sam had very different methods for doing things, but Sherlock and John seemed like they could handle things on their own.

So, the Doctor and Sam creeped silently around the labyrinthine halls of Night Vale High School before Sam spoke up.

“Is it just me, or have we passed that intersection about three times so far?”

The Doctor glanced behind him at the nervous-looking teenager. “I think it’s just you.”

“No, I think I’ve seen that classroom before too.” Sam crept close enough to the open door to read the name written on the door. “’J. Breadfish?’ I feel like have definitely seen that name before.”

The Doctor peered past Sam through the door. “What is that, lying on the ground?” He ran into the classroom, and leaned over, inspecting the suit of skin that bore the face of a rather large middle aged history teacher.

Sam walked into the classroom more slowly. He inspected the pictures hanging around the room, and muttered, “This one teacher is in every single one of these photos. He must be Breadfish. God, his eyes are creepy.”

The Doctor looked up from investigating the skin suit, and Sam got his first good look at it. He recoiled, muttering, “That. Is. Disgusting.” However, he forced himself to take a second look at the face on the skin, comparing it to the man in the photographs. “But it is definitely him, though. Breadfish.”

The Doctor laid down the skin suit and stepped back, wiping his hands. “Well, then. I’m pretty sure I know what we’re dealing with. I would love a bit more evidence, but, for now-”  

He was cut off by the ringing of his mobile.

The Doctor flipped it open before even checking the caller ID.

“Sherlock? Any news? Cause we sure found something.” he said.

 _“Actually, this is Cecil.”_ Said the voice on the other end of the line.

“Cecil!” The Doctor exclaimed happily. “It is great to hear from you. Tell me, have you guys seen anything?”

 _“We did, actually. We saw a flashing blue light in one of the classrooms, and we watched as Mr. Breadfish, one of the lesser-liked teachers here at Night Vale High, unzipped something that can only be described as like a skin suit, revealing a bulbous green monster. It was about 8 feet tall, with enormous black eyes, like deer eyes. I remember that it was entirely naked, apart from a machine-thing around its neck. It looked straight at the security camera, and then it walked out of the classroom.”_ Cecil said.

The Doctor nodded. It was just as he had thought. “Well, Cecil. Sam and I are here in Breadfish’s classroom. We were just inspecting what remains of Mr. Breadfish before you called.” He turned to the camera in the corner of the room and waved, grinning. “Hello!”

 _“Hello, Doctor.”_ There was something resembling amusement in Cecil’s voice, but it was masked by his tone of professionalism. _“So, do you know what it is? Do you know how to stop it?”_

“Yes, I do. It’s a Slitheen, from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorious. I haven’t seen them in a long time, not since Rose…” The Doctor’s voice trailed off as he remembered being trapped in 10 Downing Street with Rose Tyler, the Slitheen surrounding him, bent on destroying the Earth to sell it as real estate. That had been a long time ago, a different body…

_“Doctor?”_

He shook himself out of his reverie. “Sorry. Thank you, Cecil. I know exactly what we are facing now. You have been most helpful.”

The Doctor had scarcely heard the voice on the other end of the line say, _“No problem, Doctor,”_ before he hung up.

He then dialed Carlos, who picked up on the second ring.

 _“Hello?”_ The science student said.

“Hello, Carlos. It’s the Doctor.”

_“Yes, I know.”_

Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw Sam answer his phone. He turned around and centered his attention back to Carlos. “Right, just making sure. So, I figured out that what we are facing is a Slitheen. They’re made of living calcium, and they’re vulnerable to acetic acid. So we need vinegar, as soon as you can. Lots and lots of vinegar.”

 _“Um, okay, sir, we’re on it.”_ Carlos hung up, and the Doctor turned around to find Sam, off the phone, looking at him.

“Doctor? That was John. They’ve found the Slitheen.” Sam gulped, catching his breath. “Or rather, the Slitheen found them.”


	7. Hermione Granger

“So,” Hermione Granger said as she walked down the hallway with Carlos, “you’re into science, huh? That’s cool and all, but how did you get the keys to the lab? Our potions master would kill us if we snuck into his classroom.”

Carlos turned around and stared at her. “Potions master, riiight,” he murmured, remembering she was a wizard. Then he shrugged, blushing. He turned around and continued walking, saying over his shoulder, “Yeah, I mean, I guess. I want to be a scientist when I grow up, so I’ve been helping the science teacher a lot. I spend a lot of time in the lab after school, and she’s kind of just given me a copy of the keys because I spend more time in there than she does, honestly. I lock up most days when I go home cause I often go home after she does, so it just kind of made sense.” He jingled the lanyard covered in designs of beakers and Erlenmeyer flasks that he held in his hand. “She gave me the keys to the kingdom.” He said, chuckling.

Hermione shook her head. “Please. I mean, science is great and all, but it’s nothing compared to magic.”

Carlos scoffed. “In my world, and it’s a weird world, magic didn’t even exist until Sherlock said it did twenty minutes ago. And it’s not like just _anyone_ can do magic. But science, well, science has always existed, and it’s accessible to everyone. Granted, it was kind of backwards in the Dark Ages, but we know a lot more now. And we will continue to learn a lot in the future. And it’s very helpful, too. Like with science, you can save lives.” He looked up from fitting the key into the lock of the science lab door. “For instance, science is used to help heal broken bones.”

“But that takes weeks. Bones can be regrown with magic. Our school nurse once had to regrow the bones in Harry’s whole arm.”

Carlos looked at Hermione. “That must have been painful. And taken a while.”

She shrugged. “It probably was painful. But it only took a night.”

“A night. Wow,” Carlos whistled. “That’s impressive and all, but can you make bubbles of fire?”

Hermione stared at him. “No. Why would you want to? What would be the purpose of that?”

Carlos shrugged. “There really isn’t one. It’s just really cool.”

“I guess. But can you turn a pincushion into a porcupine? Granted, that’s more complicated magic, but it’s still possible.”

Carlos just looked at her. “No. Again, the point?”

Hermione laughed. This was certainly an interesting conversation, even if no victories had really been established.

She tried to think of another one to make Carlos admit that magic was better than science, which was not going to happen, she could already tell. Still, Hermione was nothing if not persistent.

“Okay, what about a Patronus? You can’t create one of those with science.”

“A what?”

 “A Patronus. You know, they’re like specters you can create to protect against dementors.”

Carlos was still staring at her blankly. “And dementors are… what exactly?”

Hermione could already tell this was probably one of the worst examples she could have picked. But she pressed on anyway. “They’re like these hooded creatures that feed off of human happiness. Being around them can make you relive your worst moments. And if they don’t do that, they just leave you feeling really awful and depressed.” She shuddered. “They’re awful.”

Carlos pointed at Hermione as if he were proving a point. “See, those ‘dementors,’ or whatever you call them, don’t exist outside of your world, so I don’t have to worry about them.” Then he paused and looked at her. “Wait, you said they were like hooded figures?” He trailed off, lost in a train of thought that Hermione didn’t understand.

He was interrupted from his musings by his cell phone’s ring tone. _“I love science, and I love Charles Darwin-”_ He picked up the phone to look at caller ID and looked at Hermione. He flipped it open and held it up to his ear, turning away from Hermione. Hermione took the opportunity to look around the lab, keeping an ear listening to his conversation.

“Hello?” He asked.

He paused, listening, and then nodded.

“Yes, I know,” he said.

Hermione couldn’t hear what the Doctor was saying on the other end, but she could see Carlos nodding.

The lab wasn’t that big, but there was a lot in it. It was brightly lit, unlike the potions dungeons at Hogwarts. Lab tables lined both sides of the room, and in the middle were rows of desks. There were cabinets on all the walls, holding a plethora of glassware and chemicals. There was so much glassware, and so many chemicals; she could see why Carlos enjoyed spending time there. There could not be a starker contrast between this science teacher’s lab and Snape’s classroom.

 _“_ Um, okay, sir, we’re on it. _”_ Carlos hung up, and looked at Hermione. “Apparently we just need a bunch of vinegar, ASAP.”

She looked at him and raised her eyebrow in hopes of conveying her message: _“And how am I supposed to find some vinegar in this mess?”_

Carlos laughed and told her, “You’ve got your specialties, and I’ve got mine. I personally organized this lab as a community service project; I know where everything is. I’ll go get the vinegar. Could you try to find like a giant beaker to hold it? We’ll need something with a larger opening than the vinegar bottle to pour it on the creature.”

Dumbstruck, Hermione nodded. Carlos went through a door in the back of the room, presumably to get the vinegar, and Hermione started pulling open drawers to try to find a giant beaker.

She had pulled out a couple of 1000 mL beakers when Carlos came back, carrying a couple of jugs of vinegar. He handed one to her, and they both began pouring the jugs into the beakers as quickly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you interested, Carlos’s ringtone is “I Love Science” by Hank Green & The Perfect Strangers. Because Carlos might have a /slight/ celebrity crush on Hank.


	8. Sherlock Holmes

While John spoke to Sam on the phone, Sherlock Holmes stared at the creature in front of him, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

Well, he was looking at it, so he could believe it all right. Seeing is believing, especially in Sherlock’s case.

But this was something completely different.

Before him stood an eight-foot-tall creature that defied all logic, all explanation. Sherlock relied on logic to make sense of the world. He picked up details on his surroundings and drew conclusions that way. Sherlock was smart, sure, but everything he knew was based on science that the human race already understood. But Sherlock had never seen anything like this, never seen anything so alien as what was currently facing him.

Sherlock could hear a bit of Sam’s end of the conversation on John’s phone. He had heard him call the monster a Slitheen, at least. A name was good. It made things easier to classify, and thus, defeat, somehow.

The Slitheen’s huge black eyes blinked down at him; Sherlock had no doubt that the innocence they conveyed was merely a façade that hid a much more malevolent reality.

Sherlock backed up a step, running into the wall behind him. He could feel John Watson breathing heavily from fear beside him. There was no escape from this thing. He had to face it.

The only problem was he had no plan, no back up, and no weapons worth a damn. He had only one thing at his disposal: his brain. Maybe he could keep this thing talking and ascertain what it wanted; that might at least give him enough time to formulate a plan.

Apparently the same idea had occurred to the creature, because it leaned over Sherlock and asked him, “And who are you?”

It took Sherlock a couple of seconds to sort through the underwater cadences of the Slitheen’s speech and realize he could understand it. He took a deep breath and looked up at the Slitheen’s face. “I could ask the same of you,” he said.

The Slitheen reared its head back and made a sound that could only be described as a laugh. “Oh, boy. We have a defiant one on our hands, do we?”

“Seriously, just tell us who you are and why you’re here!” John growled.

The Slitheen laughed again. “Like I would actually tell you that. That’s half the fun, you figuring it all out on your own!” It looked like it was going to say more, but the clattering of feet on the tile floor distracted it. It turned around to see The Doctor and Sam running towards them, the Doctor looking determined and Sam looking like for all the world he wanted that gun in his hands right about now.

The Doctor slid to a stop between the boys and the alien, turning to face the Slitheen. “Huh, it is a Slitheen. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you lot.” He sounded more curious than angry. He pulled out a thin silver device from his interior coat pocket and aimed it at the Slitheen, causing it to emit a buzzing noise and making the blue light at the end light up. He pulled it back and inspected it as if checking some readings, and then began to pace around the Slitheen. Confused as to what his goals were, Sherlock decided to sit back and wait to see what their strange substitute teacher was planning.

“We’ve got you surrounded, so you’ve got no choice but to answer my questions. Why here? Why now? That’s the question, isn’t it?” From his tone and expressions, Sherlock could tell that the Doctor was by no doubt stalling, but it was evidently working because all of the Slitheen’s attention was on the tall, skinny man in the brown pinstriped suit.

The Slitheen regarded the Doctor coolly. “I was hoping you could tell me that yourself, Doctor.”

The Doctor stopped pacing and faced the Slitheen. “I have a couple of theories. More like half-fledged ideas, actually.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Last time you attacked, you infiltrated a seat of power by obtaining government positions. You wanted access to nuclear bombs to turn the Earth into a wasteland. This time though, your strategy is different. You took the identity of a teacher in a high school in the middle of nowhere: Hardly a position of power. Making a profit is not your goal, at least not like last time. So that leaves us with a question: Why impersonate a teacher?”

Sherlock looked back and forth between the Slitheen and the Doctor. What was he talking about? There had been a last time? Aliens had invaded the Earth before?

The Slitheen made an expression that Sherlock assumed was a smile. “Very good! Oh, you are a smart one, aren’t you?”

The Doctor stared expressionlessly at the Slitheen. “That has been said, yes.”

“But don’t let it get to your head. You’re not _that_ smart.” The Slitheen seemed to be chiding the Doctor. “The members of my family got it wrong. Don’t get me wrong; their methods were fantastic, I just don’t agree with their goals. What they don’t understand is that although the Earth would certainly be profitable as prime real estate, it would be so much better as a planet of slaves! And not just slaves, but playthings and food, too. Objects of the Hunt.”

The Doctor looked at her. The he slowly nodded and breathed, “Ohhh.”

John spoke up. “Okay, now you’ve lost me. I was able to follow most of this, but what does being a teacher have to do with slaves?” If Sherlock could murder with looks, John would have been done for.

But the Slitheen took no notice of Sherlock’s murderous look and merely laughed again. “Young boy, are you really that dense?”

John’s menacing look was all she received in answer.

“Slaves are most effective when trained from a young age. Mold their minds when they’re young, and they will never think to question you: They’ll do all your bidding and never know anything different. You can’t just run in and try to command everyone from the get-go. Everyone learned how bad of an idea that was with that incident in New York a couple of years ago, with that fellow, what’s his name, Loki?” This time it was the Doctor who looked at the Slitheen with a confused look. “What, you think I haven’t been keeping track of the planet I eventually plan to dominate?” It asked innocently.

“But back to the matter at hand,” it continued. “You have to start with the young, and then they will age and eventually be the only remaining members of the population. Work from the ground up, if you will. Sure, it will take years to subvert the entire population, but it will be so worth it when everything is complete.”

Everyone stared at the Slitheen. In the silence, Sherlock could hear the echoing of pounding footsteps, heading quickly towards them. Sherlock was the first to actually put the idea that the Slitheen was proposing into words.

“You’re going to mind-control all the children to create your own personal army.”

“Yes,” it crooned. “Wow, you _are_ a smart one. Smarter than this Doctor here.” It gestured its head over towards the Doctor, whose mouth hung agape. He shook his head, adopting a serious, determined expression.

“All right, then,” he said, clearing his throat in a way that demanded everyone’s attention. “I am giving you one chance to leave this place and never come back. Abandon your plans and I will let you go. But continue this plot, and you cannot say that I did not offer you mercy. For I am the Doctor, and I am the Defender of the Earth.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrow: That was a powerful speech that gave the impression that the Doctor posed a serious threat to this creature. The Slitheen, however, had the nerve to laugh.

“You? Challenge me? Please. I am a Slitheen, a member of one of the most determined families in the galaxy. You can do nothing to make me leave this planet and its offerings.”

The Doctor held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. But then you will have to deal with the consequences. _My_ consequences.”

However, no one had time to actually process that statement because, at that moment, two very important things happened.

First, that was when Carlos and Hermione arrived, carrying several large beakers of vinegar.

Second, that was also the moment that the wall behind the Slitheen exploded, the resulting dust revealing the silhouette of a teenage boy, a rifle held against his chest.


	9. Dean Winchester

Dean had originally intended on attending summer school, honest.

But then when they arrived in Night Vale yesterday afternoon, Dean caught wind of a couple of local mysterious deaths. Even though he pressed further on details regarding them, he was always told not to worry because strange deaths happened all the time around here; it was nothing out of the ordinary.

As if _that_ weren’t strange.

But Dean had done some research on the deaths, and for some reason, they didn’t seem like ordinary mysterious deaths. There was something supernatural-seeming about them, and although Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was strange about them, he figured it was enough to merit further research.

“These deaths are weird, and I’m going to figure out why,” he had told Sam last night when he revealed that he wasn’t planning on attending summer school the next day.

“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Dean. You’re just looking for an excuse to not go to school tomorrow.” Sam had replied, not looking up from the book he was reading.

“No, I’m serious, Sam. There’s something supernatural going on here.”

Sam finally looked up from his book. “Even if there were something, not that I’m saying there is, but why couldn’t it wait until after summer school lets out at 2:00 to do anything? That’s not that long of a wait.”

Dean stared at his brother as if he had grown two heads. “W-wait?” He’d sputtered. “Sam, every second counts in the hunt! Every moment you waste in summer school could be another death at the hands of this thing!”

Sam had rolled off his bed then, and walked over so he was directly in front of Dean. “Okay, you know what? Fine. Go hunt that thing tomorrow. But I’m going to school because there’s. Nothing. Going. On.” Sam paused for a second. “But just in case you do find something, even though I seriously doubt you will, wait for me before trying to kill it. We work far better as a team than you do alone.”

And so he did. While Sam was being a good student and attending summer school, Dean took another look at the deaths that had alerted him that there was a case here.

Justin Bieber. Kim Kardashian. Nash Grier. Robin Thicke. All four were local teenagers, and all four attended Night Vale High School, which also happened to be where they had all died. All that remained of their corpses was the exterior skin; the insides had all been cleanly removed by someone who definitely knew what they were doing. Dean blanched as he looked at the pictures. Although he had seen his fair share of blood and gore in the past, that was nothing like what these images showed him.  

As soon as Dean had figured out that the thing they were chasing was in Night Vale High School, the same place Sam was trapped in for summer school (because unlike Dean, Sammy actually wanted to make up those credits so he could graduate and eventually to Stanford, Dean knew he had to do something _now_.

He had gone immediately to the school, calling Sam on the way, but could tell that his brother wasn’t going to do anything with the information Dean had given him. Not that he even believed Dean in the first place.

So there Dean sat, in the driver’s seat of his black Impala while watching the school and trying to formulate a plan.

He had no idea what he was even going up against. Dean knew that he had to do _something_ ; the only problem was that he didn’t know _what_. He had never dealt with a spirit that did anything like this to its victims. Unless he did further research, Dean didn’t know how to proceed.

The only problem is that he didn’t _have_ time to do any extra research.

It was only when Sam had sent him a text requesting back-up that he was spurred into action. Sam had told Dean the general whereabouts about where this thing was in the school, but he also mentioned that the halls inside formed a confusing maze understood only to those who were familiar with the school. Dean figured that it would be much more effective to just get there from the outside and not bother with the labyrinthine corridors.

He grabbed his gun, loaded with salt rounds instead of bullets because salt had a much bigger effect on spirits than bullets, and found the correct outside wall and set up a couple of explosives at the base of it. Standing back as the fuses counted down to the explosion, he ran forward as soon as they detonated. Waving the smoke and dust out of his eyes, he stood in the opening where the wall had previously stood and quickly took stock of the situation.

A tall boy with curly black hair was pressed against the back wall along with a shorter boy with sandy blond hair. A couple feet away from them, two other kids, a bushy-haired girl wearing a black robe and a Hispanic boy who wore a lab coat and possessed the most perfect hair Dean had ever seen, held beakers filled with a clear liquid that probably wasn’t water. Between them and a giant green monster stood a tall, skinny man with a brown pinstripe suit and fantastic hair, although it wasn’t nearly as amazing as the Hispanic boy’s. Behind him stood Sam, who was watching him, but didn’t seem shocked that it was his brother who’d blown up the wall.

And they were all staring at him.

Although, then again, that was probably to be expected considering the entrance he’d just made.

Dean held up his rifle and pointed it at the green monster, which was evidently the angry spirit in this situation. “You’ve been responsible for enough deaths,” he growled as he creeped forward, his eyes on his target.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall man throw up his hands and sigh, which seemed weird considering he was about to die. But he also saw the curly-haired boy and his blond friend encourage him on with their eyes.

The green thing laughed and spoke. “Enough deaths? Please, I’m just getting started.” It began to laugh: the most horrible, cruel laugh that Dean had ever heard.

That was enough for Dean to know this thing was evil and only wanted harm to come to them. He raised the gun and fired, the salt rounds inside the barrel flying and hitting its green skin.

The creature shuddered and seemed to be in pain, but not nearly to the extent that Dean had hoped. Dean looked at his gun in surprise. This creature was obviously not affected by salt like most spirits were.

He saw Sam shake his head. “It’s not supernatural, Dean. This isn’t what we’re used to dealing with,” his brother said.

Dean looked up. “Then what-?” He started to ask, but the green thing took advantage of Dean’s confusion and lunged at him.

Dean ducked and rolled out of the way just as he heard that tall man scream, “THE VINEGAR! NOW!”

Although the Hispanic boy stood there, shocked, The bushy-haired girl quickly reacted by grabbing his beaker in addition to her own. She threw the liquid contained within them at the creature, which had landed on the ground where Dean had been standing just seconds before. The creature exploded, causing its guts to fly everywhere and splatter all over the hall, as well as the people standing in it.

They all stared at each other, and then finally Dean spit a bit of monster guts out of his mouth. “Well,” he said, “that is definitely _not_ what we’re used to dealing with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the names of the dead teens, I just needed names for corpses. Read into the names I chose how you will…


	10. John Watson

_Well, this has certainly been an interesting day,_ John Watson marveled to himself. It was just another interesting day in a long line of interesting days. In the past week alone, Sherlock had dragged him out to chase jewelry thieves and a couple of murderers, as well as three separate bank robbers.

He had thought that maybe this day would be boring and normal. Come on, how can _summer school_ possibly be exciting?

But no. They had ended up battling a giant green Slitheen, whatever that even _was_ , and then that Dean Winchester blew in the side of the school to try to kill it.

It was something out of a movie, honestly. All of his life was.

After Hermione threw vinegar all over the Slitheen, they all stood staring at each other, breathing heavily, for a good five minutes. Then, the Doctor looked around at the half-demolished hall and shrugged. “Well there’s nothing we can really do about that now. I guess we can all go back to the classroom,” he said.

Hearing no sound of dissent, he turned around and started heading back to the classroom. The students all fell into line behind him. Sherlock and John fell into step behind Carlos, whom Cecil had called via cellphone.

“Yes, Cecil,” Carlos was saying. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine…. No, I wasn’t going to die… Yes, Hermione killed the Slitheen. Everything’s fine, I swear.” John could tell from Carlos’s tone that he was trying unsuccessfully to calm his frantic boyfriend.

“Yes, I helped a little… No, no, you need to come back to the classroom with us… Yes, you have to talk to the Doctor about that.” Carlos paused a moment, listening and blushing profusely. “Yeah, okay. See you, Cecil.” He then nodded his head in response to something said on the other end of the line, momentarily forgetting that Cecil couldn’t see him. He hung up his phone and noticed John staring at him. “What?” he asked.

John grinned sheepishly at being caught eavesdropping and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Carlos looked pointedly at John, and then looked at Sherlock, who was by this point chuckling over the entire exchange.

John shrugged his shoulders at the accusation. “It’s nothing! You guys are cute, is all. Honest.”

Carlos snorted. “Okay then. If that’s all you say it is.”

John held up his hands in surrender. “It is! I swear!”

Then he glanced over at Sherlock, muttering under his breath, “I want a relationship like that.”

At that moment, they rounded the corner and were in sight of both the classroom and the other three boys who were waiting at the door for the others to return. As soon as Cecil saw the science student, he ran forward and hugged Carlos.

“Oh perfect and brave Carlos! You’re okay!” he cried joyously.

Carlos hugged his boyfriend back, saying, “Of course I’m okay. After all, a scientist is always fine, Cecil. You should know that.”

“But you’re not a scientist yet, Carlos. You’re only a science student.”

“But I will be a scientist, someday.”

“Oh _Carlos_ , you’re so ambitious.” Carlos grinned and mouthed, “He’s always overreacting” over his shoulder to John, who merely chuckled.

A couple of feet away from them, the wizards from Hogwarts were having their own reunion.

“Hermione! You did great back there!” Ron cried, hugging her.

Hermione pulled back, confused. “Wait, how do know what happened?” she asked.

“Oh, we saw it all on the um. The, um. The thing. You know.” Ron snapped his fingers, obviously trying to remember the name.

“The video cameras,” Harry broke in. “We saw the whole thing on the security cameras: The Slitheen, the explosion, and you thinking quickly enough to throw vinegar everywhere and destroy it. It was so great, Hermione!”

“yeah, really! You should’ve seen it!” Ron chimed in, then he paused, thinking. “Well, actually though, you were there…” he muttered.

“Ah, well,” Hermione nodded. “I mean, thank you. But that’ll be nothing compared to going against You-Know-Who.”

Although John didn’t know who exactly ‘You-Know-Who’ referred to, he could see the immediate sobering effect it had on the boys. “Right…” Harry murmured, just as the Doctor opened the door and gestured them all inside.

After they had all settled in their seats, the Doctor leaned back on his desk and addressed them all, not as a class of students, but as equals.

“You were all fantastic today.” He looked around the room, making eye contact with every single student, saying, “Every single one of you played a vital part in saving Night Vale – and the world – from the Slitheen. So, on behalf of the entire planet Earth, I thank you.”

John furtively glanced about the room to find that everyone was smiling slyly about being thanked for their contributions. He then turned back around, straightening up as the Doctor continued to speak.

“However, we cannot forget that this is summer school, and that you all have work to do. So you best get to work on that, considering you all lost a fair bit of valuable time hunting aliens. And feel free to ask me for help: That’s what I’m here for; it’s not like I’m doing anything else.” The Doctor nodded at Sherlock, who just stared evenly back at him. “Although, as Sherlock pointed out, I _am_ an alien, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been around the block a few times. I happen to have quite a bit of experience with your schoolwork, like that time I met Shakespeare…” Seeing the blank and dubious expressions on the students’ faces, he stopped talking. “Ah, well, anyway, you have work to do,” he said, and then he sat down at his desk.

He had scarcely been sitting down for five minutes when Cecil approached him. He spoke quietly, but John could hear what he said anyway due to his close proximity to the Doctor’s desk.

“Doctor, I’m here because I’m preemptively taking Night Vale High’s Advanced Radio Hosting class. I can’t exactly get much work done here, outside of the booth. And, as a radio host, it is my duty to report the news. And I think killing an alien that was intent on enslaving the earth is a _fairly_ news-worthy event that the populace needs to know about.”

He looked hopeful as the Doctor considered him.

“Alright, Cecil. I got you down on the roll. Go report the news.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” Cecil quickly left the room, and everyone else returned to the tasks they had been doing before the Doctor had interrupted them.

They continued to work even as Cecil began his school wide broadcast, treating it as a background soundtrack to their tasks, even though John was pretty sure everyone was secretly at least partially listening, just as he was.

 _“And so, dear listeners,”_ Cecil said as John tuned in again near the end of the broadcast, _“we have now learned that we can never truly discount something until we see it to be a reality. Before today, I had merely dismissed aliens as a myth not to be believed! But in this case, it is as they say listeners: ‘seeing is believing.’ However, this is not always the case, listeners. Sometimes, believing is not the same as seeing. Plenty of things are believed, but can never be seen, such as gravity, the inner workings of the Krebs cycle, and the Lizard Kings who secretly rule over us._

_“Be careful what you see, listeners. And more importantly, be careful what you believe._

_“Say tuned next for the sound of students struggling to come to terms with the concept of the absolute certainty of death.”_

It was getting dark as Cecil finished his broadcast and signed off for the night.

_“Good night, Night Vale High School. Good night.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on, how could I not put at least a little Johnlock in there??

**Author's Note:**

> So this kind of started with my teacher wanting me to write a summer school fanfic AU, and it kind of snowballed into a 10-chapter experimentation in multiple POV and characterization. I hope you enjoyed it, because this is way bigger (and cooler) than any original plan. 
> 
> This is my entry for the North Gwinnett NEHS summer AU contest. 
> 
> Thank you to emotionalcorn for beta'ing this! It means so much that you took time out of your busy weekend to proofread this 30-page monstrosity. :)


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